


A Wilde Song

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, I had feelings, Spoilers for episode 182, just a little something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: For the first time in a long time, Oscar sings.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	A Wilde Song

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't *not* write the lead-up to Wilde's Crowning Moment of Awesome in Episode 182 from his point of view. I mean, I guess I could have, but I had Feelings and now everyone gets to have them.

Oscar notices it first.

The voices around him, the voices of the garden, lovely and welcoming and warm, grow distant, grow faint, grow still. He can still hear his friends, Cel’s quiet conversation, Hamid’s humming, but then even those stop as a breeze blows suddenly around them. Oscar, who has hardly felt cold at all since his resurrection, shivers as the chill strikes directly to the heart of him. He keeps walking, arms wrapped around himself even though the action brings no comfort with it, no warmth.

(Far away, on the back of a giant bear, Carter and Sassraa shiver and look at each other. They both reach out in the same instant, fingers and claws entwining.)

It was one thing to be told that there was a blight in the garden, another to see it from a great distance, yet another to see the edges of it, petals becoming paler blue fading to white, tree roots becoming more twisted. Every step only strengthens the feeling of wrongness. It’s as if a hundred of the most talented singers in the world have gathered to perform the most perfect aria and one of them is out of tune and a half measure behind everyone else. Dissonant. Discordant. The feeling worms its way under his skin, takes up residence in his bones where all his trembling can’t dislodge it.

Movement out of the corner of his eye. A dark shape between the trees, there and gone in a swirl of blighted petals and snow. For all that the sun is shining, Oscar can’t help but think of darkness, think of shadows, think of his ancestors huddled in caves building fires to hold back the night, to keep away the things hunting in the dark.

A hand on his shoulder, thick, calloused fingers radiating warmth, Zolf’s eyes nearly fire-bright in his ashen face. The touch is enough to get words up and out of his throat, to be heard over the pounding of his heart.

“We’re being hunted.”

The discordance swells like a wave threatening to drown them all, louder and louder, the disparate harmonies raging, roaring, forming into words.

**_It’s your fault._ **

“Is— Is—?” Cel’s voice is high and wavering, swiftly overpowered by the voice Oscar is hearing, that everyone else is hearing.

**_All your fault._ **

“I see everyone else flinching, can you hear it too?” Cel continues. “A voice saying—“

**_It’s all your fault, all your fault, all your fault all your fault all your—_ **

“Yes.” A chorus of voices, imperfect but harmonious all the same. Oscar hears them running over each other in a cascade of sound and it is beautiful like the garden is beautiful.

**_All your fault._ **

_That_ voice is corruption. It is blight. It is the worm in the budding rose, the discordant note, blue veins snaking through flesh and hearts and minds. It is _wrong._

The fear in Oscar breaks. No, not breaks. It _melts_ under the furious heat of his anger. He feels Zolf pat his shoulder, reassurance and understanding in that simple gesture.

Power rises along with Oscar’s anger, molten and golden and _glorious._ It has been so long. Too long. He closes his eyes as his fingers twitch, feeling out the notes he needs, shaping the thread of sound as he begins to hum.

(Far away, yet close in all the ways that matter, Carter and Sassraa begin to hum.)

Oscar opens his mouth and _sings_ , sings light to burn away corruption and fear, to chase away darkness, He feels the sound surround all that stand beside him, lending them protection, lending them strength.

**_All your fault. So much death. So much pain. All your fault._ **

Oscar opens his eyes and keeps singing. He does not raise his voice, not even when the bells start to ring, as if that could drown him out, not even when the roots of the trees around them rise, twisting and writhing like snakes.

**_ALL. YOUR. FAULT._ **

Oscar’s song does not have words, does not need them, not with the force of his emotions driving the harmony. There is a word in his head though, and it’s in his head he says it, with all the anger and love in his heart.

**_No._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I’m [angel-ascending](http://angel-ascending.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr and [angel_in_ink](http://twitter.com/angel_in_ink) over on Twitter if y’all want to stop by and say hi!


End file.
